Returning from the Shadow of the Valley
by ladydelirium007
Summary: Josh thinks about the months following OTDB while Donna is in the hospital (WARNING: DEALS WITH SUICIDE)


Summarry: Josh thinks about the months following OTDB while waiting in donna's hospital room after a suicide attempt.  
  
  
  
Hospitals. I hate hospitals, for obvious reasons. I hate them when I'm in them, I hate them more when I'm there for someone else. Right now, I'm looking at Donna. She doesn't even look alive. She is completly white, as if any life she had was sucked out of her. Her right hand is cold and her left wrist is stitched beneath the thick bandage. I hate that this is the way we have to see eachother for the first time in months. We have to wait until she wakes up from her brush with death. It's now been six months since she resigned, and before now, I hadn't seen her since then.  
  
***************************  
  
"Josh, I'm leaving."  
  
I looked up sharply from my work. "What are you talking about? It's only 4:30."  
  
"No, Josh. I mean, I'm leaving." It wasn't until she said this that I notice the folded piece of paper in her hand.  
  
"Donna..."  
  
"Josh, don't. Just don' say anything."  
  
"Donna, I don't think this is best- I think-"  
  
"Josh, I can hardly look at you anymore," she said, staring at her feet.  
  
There was a long awkward silence as she stared at her feet and I stared at her. She couldn't just be leaving me. It wasn't fair. A thousand emotions rushed through my head: anger, sadness, defeat, helplessness.  
  
"Fine," I finally said with little feeling. Donna turned and left my office, and I stared at the files in front of me. I almost felt betrayed. She was just leaving me. She returned a few minutes with her coat on and her purse in one arm, a box of her things in the other.  
  
"I called for a temp. There should be one here in while," she said without feeling. She threw her letter of resignation on my desk and walked of my office, struggling with the box on her way out. I could have offered to help her. I didn't.  
  
**************************  
  
I studied the works of Neal Cassady in my english class in high school. We spent most of our time on his letter to Jack Karouac about the suicide attempt of his girlfriend, Joan. Joan had been pregnant, and lost the baby after the suicide attempt. Neal had visited the hospital just once and never returned again. He and Joan were later reunited, however, for a brief time before Neal was arrested on a bogus charge and joan had simply disappeared.  
  
Things seem to have worked backwards for me Donna. Donna disappearedfrom my life, and then we were bough back together by her suicide attempt. At least, I hope it's brought us back together.  
  
Anyway, I seem to remember the letter more clearly now than I ever have been. I look at Donna and try to make comparisons between her and Joan. I study Donna's features. She has blond hair, and Joan had dark hair. They are both pale. I look at her position. She's laying with her arms at her sides. Joans arms had been touching her stomach. Donna's head is turned slightly toward me, with her lips slightly parted.  
  
I wonder if she really had the intention of ending her life, or if she had just wanted to escape for a little while. Perhaps it was niether, maybe she had other reasons. Maybe some gomer she thought she'd fallen love with had hurt her. I chastise myself. It was thinking things like that that got me where I am.  
  
***********************  
  
"Is he a republican?"  
  
Donna stopped putting her scarf on, shocked, and then quickly resumed. "I don't know, why?" she said, feigning ignorance.  
  
"No reason, you just seem to be picking up a lot of them latley."  
  
"Josh, in case you haven't picked on the subtle hints I've given you, i will tell you now, my personal life is none of your buisness," Donna replied curtly.  
  
"It is if it interfers with your professional life."  
  
"Oh, God, are you still on that?"  
  
"Of course I'm still on it Donna. You could have brought down the enitre administration."  
  
Donna let out a short laugh. "I could not have brought down the entire administartion," she said as she checked her hair in a small mirror. "The worst that would have happened would be tht I'd get fired. And that didn't even happen. There was nothing in there about the administration anyway. Maybe a few conversations I've had with some of the assistants, but that's it."  
  
"But that's not the point, you lied."  
  
"Yes, and as I said before, I could have been fired. I wasn't. You guys spun it and I handed over my diary and Cliff was a nice guy and didn't use it."  
  
"Did you write about your date in there?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Then why do you think he didn't use it? He knew that it would prove he had a relationship with you."  
  
"I think him knowing about the diary would have been good enough proof," Donna said, pulling on her gloves.  
  
"Not really, it could have been a lucky guess."  
  
"He didn't use it because he was a nice guy, Josh," she said, turning to stare at me straight in the eye.  
  
"How do you know that? did you get a vibe?"  
  
She stared at me silently for a long time before she said, "Goodnight Josh, I'm leaving."  
  
She began to walk away from me and I yelled after her, "If you're going to sleep with him, you should make sure you put your diary away first!" She didn't stop or slow down. She didn't even speed up. She just continued walking until she was out of my view.  
  
A week later I recieved a package from Cliff Calley. Inside was Donna's diary with a note that read, "Read this, then please return to Donna."  
  
I read the diary as the note instructed. I was surprised to read what I did. In it Donna had chronicled in detail my injuries, my months of recovery, the months following my recovery, and, more than anything else, my PTSD. In it, she talked about how scared she was for me. It showed that she was worried, but most of all, it showed she cared. I put the diary in my backpack and brought it home.  
  
************************************************  
  
I stare at the diary and wonder what she'll say when she wakes up and finds out I've had it for months. Everytime I missed Donna I would read the diary and feel like she was still with me, not getting me coffee and telling me to go to meetings and that my watch sucked.  
  
Neal was lucky. Even though Joan had tried to kill herself and the were ultimately seperated, he'd had her. And not just as a friend, but as that one person who can complete you in so many different ways that it boggles the mind. They were given the chance to have it. Donna and I had never been given the chance. Or maybe we'd been given every chance and we just didn't take it. There were to many obstacles, we weren't ready. But, unfortunately, by the time we were ready, it was far to late.  
  
****************************************************  
  
"Josh?"  
  
I looked up, surprised by her voice. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was questioned today," she said quietly. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Trying to clean."  
  
"You're trying to clean?" she asked, with a smile hovering on her lips. "Isn't it a little dark in here?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess, I just didn't open the blinds."  
  
Her face turned serious quickly. "Josh...I um....think I made a mistake."  
  
"A mistake?" I asked as I looked on desk for a box of pens.  
  
"In the questioning."  
  
I stop what I'm doing and slowly look up at her. "What mistake did you make?"  
  
she closed her eyes. "I lied."  
  
"YOU LIED?" I shouted.  
  
"Josh-"  
  
"What about?" I ask more calmly.  
  
"They asked if I keep a diary."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I told them I don't."  
  
"Donna, did you even think of the risk that you've out us at?"  
  
"I know. I screwed up."  
  
"You think!"  
  
"Josh, I'll make this better, I promise."  
  
"No, don't do anything else. I'll talk to Toby and CJ and see if we can spin this. Just go home. Maybe you should consider giving your diary to your boyfriend."  
  
"Josh-"  
  
"Donna, just go home."  
  
***************************************  
  
I look at her fingers resting in my hand. They're thinner than I remember. I look at her stomach and place my hand on it. It's sunken. She's lost a lot of weight, and it looks like it's at the point where she isn't healthy.  
  
When I look at her face her eyes begin to flutter. I squeeze her hand and they slowly open. She squints against the light. She then focuses her eyes on me. She smile slightly and says, "Hi."  
  
"Hi." 


End file.
